


Write What You Know

by Dardrea



Series: Fluffy Hiatus Sunday Ficlets [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Rumbelle - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hiatus Sunday Fluff 2014 - 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:17:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dardrea/pseuds/Dardrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Week 8 of the Hiatus Sunday Fluff. Uhm...rated T for threats of violence and implications of possible smut? But it's for my Sunday Fluff, I swear? Hopefully it will make sense at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Write What You Know

The girl crept through the forest, keeping to the shadows of the trees and shrubs as she trailed after the strange creature before her.

He cut an elegant figure, dressed as a noble though not quite in a fashion she’d ever seen before. He wore too much leather for one thing, and though it was in the style of garments appropriate for court—except for the spikes and large, armored scales—it was also all so subtly off that it was disquieting somehow. Like a warped mirror that still showed the world, but twisted it.

He strutted through the trees, arms swinging, humming off-key, deceptively cheerful.

The girl took a careful look around and risked letting herself get closer.

She found she was holding her breath, afraid to let even that small sound betray her hunt. If she could have stilled her heart as well she would have, to keep him from catching the sound of its steadily increasing rhythm. She drew her sword in her right hand and a small glass vial in her left.

Suddenly he turned on his heels, spinning to face her, a mad grin splitting his face. She was startled but prepared, throwing the fragile glass vial at his feet where it shattered and instantly erupted in roiling clouds of silvery smoke. As the smoke enveloped him his shrill giggle rose tauntingly on the air, emanating from the shadowy form that was briefly backlit at the center of the silver fog.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, dearie,” he said when the magical fog settled, still grinning that wide, toothy grin and acting not the least disturbed to find himself momentarily immobilized.

She flexed her fingers on the grip of her sword, carefully approaching him. “That I am,” she answered boldly, her gaze roving curiously over him. She’d read and heard many things but she’d never seen such a creature before. From a distance he appeared human enough; standing so close it was easy to see he was not. His strange clothing wasn’t the only thing that was spiked and scaled.

“Not very good at being stealthy, are you? It sounded like a bull was tromping along behind me through the undergrowth.” He tittered again, through his teeth this time.

She winced, thinking that was a little unkind. “I’m working on it,” she said shortly. No one started out being a great tracker. Galling as it was to admit, some things needed more than books to teach.

“Not much time left to work on it, I’m afraid. As soon as your little dust wears off—five minutes or so, I’d wager—I’m going to skin you alive,” he crooned, sounding more delighted than anyone should to be threatening such violence.

It made her grin—and for the first time made _his_ grin falter.

“Oh, I’ll have more time than that,” she promised him, retrieving another small flask from her hip belt. This one she carefully uncorked, and, kicking the dirt from a flat, carved rock half-buried in the leaf litter, she poured out a bit of liquid onto the stone. Though she only poured a very small amount, more seemed almost to well up from the stone itself, following the carved grooves in the rock and sparkling and glowing as she moved onto the next hidden runestone, uncovering and activating it as well.

“What have you done, dearie?” he hissed. It seemed he tried to sound as calm as his strange voice would allow but there was a new tension in him that hinted he might suddenly be trying to fight the power of the immobilizing dust. She moved as quickly as she dared from one runestone to the next.

“Trapped you,” she said, not looking up from her task. She couldn’t afford to make a mistake. The liquid in her tiny vial had to last for all five stones and couldn’t be spilled on any ground but the stones themselves. “And now I’m binding you.” As the grooves of the last runestone filled with the glowing liquid all five stones briefly flared blindingly white and a lattice of silver geometrics seemed to burst from the ground, tracing a dome of spirals and symbols in the air around her captive at the center of the circle.

The hold of the dust dissolved under this new and more powerful magic and he visibly shook himself free of it, growling low in his throat and reaching out with black-clawed fingers—then drawing his hand back with a hiss as though he’d been burned by the invisible barrier.

She sighed in relief. “I may not be much of a tracker—but I am a pretty good trapper,” she told him.

“I will do worse than skin you alive when I get out of this,” he growled, the high voice and mockery given way to bared teeth and glowering. Somehow this was less frightening, at least until he spoke. “I’ll nail you to the ground and take your organs out one-by-one while you writhe, screaming for me to kill you—then I’ll put them all back in wrong and sew you up again. I’ll keep you alive for months while your insides _rot_ —”

She winced. “You’re really not going to convince me to free you that way, you know. There’s no need for all that. I don’t actually want to leave you trapped here but from what I’ve read if I do, I’ll be long dead of natural causes before you manage to work your way free.”

He sniffed, crossing him arms over his chest and turning his back on her with a sullen look.

She sighed and walked around the circle until she was in front of him again. “I understand an immortal can afford to wait a few centuries for a spell like this to wear off but from what I’ve heard about you, you aren’t a patient…” She hesitated. “Uhm…man,” she finished at last, for lack of a better word. “Anyway, there’s no reason you need to be. I’m perfectly willing to let you out.”

His narrowed gaze settled on her again. His mouth was tight with annoyance but he cocked his head.

“All I want is for you to make a deal with me—uhm…and promise not to hurt me in _any_ way once I’ve freed you. Definitely no flaying and no evisceration.”

The clever smile flickered across his face again.

“All you want is a deal?” he said silkily. “Why, that’s easily done; deals are my stock and trade. Just let me go and I’ll make any deal you like.”

“But you see the problem is you’ve already turned down every deal my people offered. That’s why we’re both here now.”

His brows rose in vague interest. “I’m quite certain we’ve never met before.”

She shrugged. “You dealt with my father—or rather you didn’t deal with my father, in spite of his many offers. There is an army on our doorstep, poised to take over our peaceful kingdom—”

He rolled his eyes and made an annoyed sound. “Oh, you’re one of _those_ people. I would never have guessed the daughter could be even more annoying than the father. Does it really never occur to either of you that I’m hardly inclined to interfere with the movement of an army I’m already dealing with? Conflict of interest and what not.” He waved his hand dismissively.

She squared her shoulders and glared at him. “Then you had better change your interests or you’ll spend the next several centuries with nothing to do but watch the seasons change around you while you sit here on this unchanging little plot of land.”

He glared back. “And if I agree to deal with you to save your annoying, persistent little kingdom? What do you offer for your end of the deal?”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “Your freedom of course. Unless you’d rather stay here?”

He held out his claws and examined them. “As you said, I am immortal. Maybe a few centuries of rest and relaxation are a better deal for me than giving in to blackmail.”

She just watched him for a moment. Then she shrugged. “Alright. I don’t think of it as blackmail but if you really feel that way, I’m sorry.” She turned and started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he called after her. She wasn’t sure if she was imaging the panic in his shrill voice.

She didn’t stop. But she did call back over her shoulder. “To help my people prepare for war. I’ve been away too long as it is. If we must engage, I will be with them.”

“You’ll all be slaughtered!” he shouted.

She turned. If the situation weren’t so dire she would have laughed. He looked like a petulant child, pouting, arms crossed, one foot tapping with frustrated energy. “Probably. But what difference will that make to you? You’ll be here. Safe and sound—for the next several hundred years.”

He sighed heavily and muttered something under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” she said.

“I _said_ …I’ll help you. I’ll turn back the invading army,” he told her sullenly.

She took a few steps in his direction, not entirely trusting this tenuous hope. “And you’ll keep them out? And you won’t harm me? Or seek revenge on me _or_ my people?”

He made a disgusted sound but swept a deep, mocking bow, his hair falling forward over his face. “You have my word. Do we have a deal?”

She broke into a wide grin. “Yes! Yes, we certainly do.”

~~~

Belle bit her lip, glad for the moment that Rumpel was behind her and she couldn’t see his face.

“Well…what do you think?”

“I think your protagonist shouldn’t make that deal. A demon isn’t to be trusted under the best of circumstances. A caged demon, even less so.”

She giggled a little and ran her fingers over his arms where they were wrapped around her. She was lying back against him on the couch, her hips cradled by his, his legs on either side of hers, her back resting against his chest. His chin was on her shoulder and she turned her head a little to nuzzle at his cheek, her hair catching a bit in the stubble of his beard.

“And?” she prodded.

“And…you have a beautiful voice. I love listening to you read.”

She turned her head more so she could nip at his jaw. “My _story_ , Rumpel. Do you think I have a good start to a story? Worth working on for my creative writing class?” She bit her lip. It was one of her first efforts. Her teacher had said to ‘write what you know.’

He chuckled and kissed her neck. “I think it’s wonderful, sweetheart. If a bit of a stretch to call it complete fiction—”

She elbowed him lightly but he only laughed again. She loved the sound of it though, so she couldn’t begrudge him his amusement.

“I think it will be even better if your protagonist gets…‘close’ to her demon. You should definitely write a scene where they…you know.” He kissed her shoulder and pressed his teasing grin against her skin.

She stiffened and quickly closed her laptop, resting her hand on top of it as though to keep it from popping back open again—or to keep him away from it.

He stared at the computer, his curiosity suddenly peaked. “Belle? What other stories _have_ you been writing for that class?”


End file.
